


need never feel broken again

by Sway



Series: savour [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Eggsy, Dom Harry Hart, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Eggsy as Galahad, Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Established Relationship, Harry Hart Lives, Harry as Arthur, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Post V-Day, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Sub Eggsy, implied Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin (Kingsman)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You’re not going to come while you're grounded. You’ll do as I told you and if you behave, you’ll be allowed to come. Am I understood?”</i>
</p><p>On a mission gone awry, Eggsy nearly gets himself killed. Harry's punishment for disobeying his and Merlin's orders is not what he has expected but might just be what Eggsy needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	need never feel broken again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrabelloPrima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrabelloPrima/gifts).



> First of all, huge thanks to CrabelloPrima for submitting so many awesome prompts. You made it so easy (and yet so tough) to choose what to fulfill. There are a few more I mean to tackle so stay tuned for those. I hope you like what I made of this one: 
> 
> _Eggsy has issues with following orders and nearly gets himself killed. Blindfold, hands tied, kink on a complete trust. Only Harry or both Harry and Merlin together._
> 
> Many many thanks go to [Krissielee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee) for trying to make sense of my tenses. You have no idea how grateful I am for tackling this <3
> 
> The title is from "The Light" by Disturbed.

“Galahad, you do understand that your behavior has been beyond reckless?!”

“Yes, Arthur.”

“Not only was your cover quite spectacularly blown, you threatened the entire mission. You almost let Southeast Asia fall into the hands of one of the world's most lethal drug traffickers.”

“I know, Arthur.”

“And on top of it all, you almost got blown up by a landmine because you just had to go solo into their headquarter before Merlin could give you a layout of the perimeter. Do you actually want to follow in your father's footsteps?”

Eggsy swallows. Hard. “No, sir.”

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Yes, it was, sir.”

“Come here.”

Eggsy rounds the heavy desk. Before he can get a response out, maybe even try one of the many explanations he had threaded together on the flight home, he finds himself engulfed in strong arms.

“I’m glad you’re home, Eggsy.”

“Me too, Harry.” Eggsy wraps his own arms around the other’s waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“This isn’t about scaring me.” Harry brings an arm’s length of distance between them. “This is about you needing to learn how to follow an order, be it from me or from Merlin.”

“I got the job done, didn’t I?” Eggsy steps back, crossing his arms in defiance.

“That is not the point. Your qualities as an agent are not the matter of this discussion. You endangered the integrity of the mission and your own life, all of which could have been prevented if you had listened to Merlin.”

“All right, I’ll apologize to him.”

Harry sits down in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. “I’m afraid an apology won’t be enough this time.”

“What then? Flowers? Chocolates? A new mug?” Eggsy quips, knowing he’s pushing his luck now.

“There is a lesson to be learnt here, Eggsy. You will come to understand that your actions have consequences, out there and in here. When we give you an order, we expect you to follow it. The rules don’t exist to restrict you but to protect you from doing something stupid and potentially fatal.”

“I understand.” 

“I don’t think you do. At least, not to the extent we need you to.” There is a mild smile playing around Harry’s lips.

“So I’m getting punished.” It’s not a question.

“Yes. You’ll be grounded for a week.”

“Harry …” Eggsy knows he is whining; he also knows that he probably shouldn’t be.

“You will report here every day as usual but you will not go on any missions. And if anyone asks you to do anything at all, you will do it. Even if it’s something as trivial as picking up a copy from the machine.”

“Oh come on, guv …”

In a flash, Harry is on his feet, towering over Eggsy; not menacing, just using his advantage in height to make a point. “I understand you’ve had terrible experiences with supposed authority figures, Eggsy. This isn’t as much about obedience as it is about teaching you to respect our decisions. And this is solely for your benefit, never to harm you.”

Eggsy holds his gaze for a moment before his head dips down and he nods. “Understood, sir.”

Harry reaches out and brushes an unruly strand of hair from Eggsy’s forehead. Then he slips his fingers underneath his chin, making him look up again. “I think you need some time to think about this, don’t you?”

Eggsy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask the obvious question. 

“Do you know what a time-out is, Eggsy?”

“Like they do in sports?”

“No quite. Like they used to do in school back in my days.”

Eggsy can help but huff a laugh. “You mean corner time?”

“Exactly. It will be your first lesson in learning how to follow orders.”

“But …”

“That corner over there--” Harry gestures towards the corner to the right of his desk where two bookshelves meet “--will be yours until we go home.”

“You can’t be serious, Harry.” Eggsy tries to step away from him but Harry has his hand on the back of his neck now and holds him in place.

“Go, Eggsy,” he orders, his tone soft but relentless. 

Eggsy straightens, all defiance and stubbornness. With his head held up in pride, he saunters over to said corner, assuming the position.

“Face to the wall. Do not move until you absolutely have to. And you will not speak unless I address you directly. Am I understood?”

“Yes--” Eggsy hesitates just out of spite “--sir.”

Harry steps up to him, crowding right into his personal space. He still has his hand in the back of Eggsy’s neck, gentler now, fingers brushing over the short hair at the nape of his neck. “You do trust me, don’t you?” Some of the cool bravado is gone now, making way for a more _Harry_ tone, soft and caring.

“Of course.”

Harry leans into him just a little bit more. “Thank you.” He presses a quick kiss to where his fingers have left the faintest imprint on Eggsy’s skin. “Now stay.”

Eggsy nods ever so slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “Yes, Sir.”

 

*

 

Harry works long hours that day.

Eggsy can’t tell how many. He isn’t sure if Harry is doing this on purpose or if he is actually that busy on this particular day.

The first hour or so, Eggsy still has a vague idea of the time that passes. He tries counting first, counts in uneven seconds until he loses track. There is no clock in the room other than Harry’s wrist watch and the bloody thing doesn’t tick. It stuns, blinds and retcons but it doesn’t tick.

After that, Eggsy tries recounting songs in his head, singing them in his mind, the lyrics made up more often than not, as long as he gets through the melody. He ends with the most spectacular rendition of “The Rain in Spain” no one has ever heard.

“How are you doing, Eggsy?” Harry tears him out of his musical career.

“Good, Sir,” he replies without actually thinking about it.

He resorts to relaxation techniques then, trying to recall what he has learnt in Sandhurst way back when. This wasn’t much different than standing on guard, keeping one’s body rigid and at attention without cramping up. 

He focuses on the individual muscle groups, first his jaw and neck, then his shoulders. Rather than having his arms crossed in the small of his back, he lets them hang straight down at his sides, hands open, every now and then flexing his fingers. He concentrates on his posture, on the curve of his spine, visualizing each vertebrae from the base of his skull down to his tailbone. He aligns his hips with his shoulders, his knees slightly bent, his feet planted just enough for him to still wriggle his toes.

With his body resting more or less in itself, Eggsy feels his mind slipping. His eyes become blind to the spines of the books in front of him. His ears go deaf to the sound of Harry typing away on his laptop or the occasional phone call he makes.

Instead, his thoughts go back to the mission which had nearly cost him his life, or at least a good portion of it. His task had been to infiltrate a drug cartel operating out of Laos, posing as a client and potential business partner for an expansion to Europe. All had gone smoothly at first. He had schmoozed up the head of the cartel, offering obscene amounts of money and other benefits which were even more obscene. 

So they had set a date for final negotiations with the other shareholders in the operations. Unfortunately, monetary and sexual favors had only gotten Eggsy so far and his target had moved the date to the next day instead of the next week, forcing Eggsy to act on instinct.

He was supposed to bug the place to make sure Merlin got enough intel to alert INTERPOL. But with the new date, there was no time for precautionary measures, even less for Merlin to mail him a detailed floor plan of the building and possible escape routes. 

Despite the orders to wait for backup, Eggsy had gone in and things had gone tits up. He had put the bugs in place but somehow one of the guys had caught wind and all of a sudden, everybody had a gun and was using it, too.

He’d barely made it out in one piece, accompanied by a myriad of curses coming from his earpiece. They had all the info they needed but Merlin was still pissed. Even though Eggsy had tried to explain the urgency, he wouldn’t have any of it.

So here he is now. Doing corner time.

It irks him, being treated like a petulant child. 

Part of him does understand why Harry is doing this to him, though. He might be reckless but he isn’t stupid.

And then there’s that part of him that’s enjoying this. Not in the way that it gives him pleasure, but it helps him come down, helps him deal with the slowly dissipating adrenaline. He is a man of action with the desperate need to move, to be in motion. Growing up around a man like Dean had turned on his survival mode and it’s been running overtime ever since.

But now - with Harry - there is no need for that. He feels and _knows_ that he is safe. He is protected. He can turn his back to the room and it’s all right.

That feeling settles deep in his core and it doesn’t go away. 

It doesn’t falter when there’s a soft knock on the door and Merlin steps in without waiting for Harry’s reply. It barely even registers because Eggsy knows Harry has his back - figuratively and literally.

Merlin talks about an upcoming mission for Gawain. Eggsy’s brain doesn’t process the details, just lets the agent's sonorous voice thrum along his senses. It’s strangely soothing, kindling the need to apologize for causing him grief. 

“How is he doing?”

“Answer him, Eggsy.”

Harry’s voice snaps him back to the surface but it takes him a moment to be able to speak and enunciate again. “Very good, sir. Thank you.”

“He’s learning fast.”

“Yes, he is.”

Eggsy can hear the pride in Harry’s voice and it makes him straighten his shoulders despite the growing discomfort in his back.

“Then I won’t disturb you any further. Have a good night, Arthur.”

The door clicks shut behind Merlin and as soon as it does, Harry stands behind Eggsy, one hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s go home, Eggsy.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“At ease, now.”

At the words, Eggsy practically melts against Harry. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you in a nice hot bath, help relax your muscles.”

The prospect of warm water engulfing him makes Eggsy actually mewl. 

All but in trance he gathers his things and meets Harry outside where their cab is waiting. In the backseat, Eggsy leans against Harry’s shoulder and is half asleep by the time the engine starts.

 

*

 

Harry draws him a bath and helps Eggsy undress. He kneads his shoulders, finds the tight knots there and eases them out with skilled rolls of his thumbs.

He does the same to Eggsy’s back, his hips and thighs. When he pushes at a particular spot in the back of Eggsy’s knee, his legs almost give out. It’s the very spot he uses when he wants Eggsy to bend his knees when they are in bed. The mere neurological connection makes Eggsy half hard in an instant which gets him an amused look from Harry.

“Into the tub with you. Try not to drown, my love.”

Harry kisses him then, for the first time today. He kisses him deeply as if to possess him. Then he helps him sit down in the tub - the water hot but no longer scalding - and places a rolled up washcloth on the back of Eggsy’s neck.

“Do not touch your cock,” he murmurs into Eggsy’s ear, then he leaves him to it.

The order barely registers with Eggsy but he’s too damn tired to even reach for his dick anyway.

The mission is still wearing down on him, even more so after today. He can run all day, jump across cars and rooftops, no problem, but being forced to stand still is really exhausting. 

And still, somewhere deep down inside him, something has woken up. A desire. Not to be put into the corner again, no. He is yearning for the feeling. That sense of being protected and safe. 

That desire seeps into him just like the warm water does, and despite his fatigue and longing for sleep, he wants nothing more than to tell Harry. He wants him to know what today has done to him, that he understands now, and that he wants more of it.

When the water starts to get cold, Eggsy clambers out of the tub and wraps the towel that Harry has left for him around himself. He dries off, subconsciously avoiding his half hard cock, then pads from the en suite into the master bedroom. 

Harry has already dressed down into his pajamas which are always a little too pristine to just be worn in bed. He reads from a newspaper - not The Sun, obviously - and now glances over the rim his glasses. 

“Finally he emerges,” he says, smiling.

“I needed that. You can’t get a decent bath while on a mission.” Eggsy slips into a pair of washed out boxers.

“You deserved it.”

“Did I?”

“You did very good today. I am proud of you.”

Eggsy blushes and has to look away.

“Come here,” Harry beckons, putting paper and glasses aside. 

Eggsy climbs onto the bed, settling down on his knees next to Harry.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean to disobey you or Merlin. I know it was stupid but at the time, I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Harry brushes the wet hair from Eggsy’s forehead. “I know that. And you did succeed on the mission. But no agent’s life is worth sacrificing for any mission.”

“You died.” It hurts as much now as it did a year ago.

“I came back.”

“Don’t take the piss, yeah?”

Harry nods. “You’re right. I’m not a prime example myself.” He pauses. “I love you, Eggsy. I couldn’t bear losing you.”

Eggsy blushes some more but opts for a lighter tone. “So don’t.”

Harry hands goes to the back of Eggsy’s neck, pulling him close. “It’s not on my agenda for a long time,” he says before he leans into Eggsy and kisses him. 

It’s a slow kiss at first, as if they need to get used to each other again. And they do, really. Eggsy had been gone for over three weeks and until now there really hadn’t been the time for them to be just Harry and Eggsy rather than Arthur and Galahad.

Harry deepens the kiss, gently but deliberately pushing for more. He tongues his way into Eggsy’s mouth at the same time as his hands slip along the back of Eggsy’s neck, fingers brushing up into his hair. 

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against the corner of Eggsy’s mouth and he pulls back briefly to draw in a breath. Eggsy grins and makes an approving sound before he leaps back into the kiss.

They draw it out, make it foreplay. Eggsy had never thought he’d like it this way. But then, his experiences prior to Harry had not been exactly stellar. Where he’s from it’s all cheesy pick up lines in slightly filthy clubs and bars and the quick decision of who has the least shabby place to go to. Where he is from there is no seduction or foreplay, let alone lovemaking. He has learnt all that from Harry, who is more than determined to make him master that just as he did his close quarter combat skills. There is an overlap.

Slowly, Eggsy lets his hand creep underneath Harry’s pajama shirt, fingers finding the warm, soft skin of Harry’s stomach. There is a scar there, just above the waistband of his pants, puckered and ugly and all the more sensitive to the touch. Eggsy traces its outline and Harry all but bucks up into the touch. 

Without breaking the kiss, Eggsy slides into Harry’s lap. He withdraws his hand and slowly begins unbuttoning the shirt from the bottom up. He reveals that scar now, a nasty shrapnel wound stitched up in a trench (at least, that’s the non-classified version). With the pad of his thumb, Eggsy traces the soft trail of hair leading up Harry’s belly where he pops the next two buttons. When the fourth button goes, he brushes his fingers into the coarse patch on Harry’s chest, leaning down to kiss him just there. 

He tastes salt and remnants of that glossy brand of shower gel which is a little too perfume-y for Eggsy’s taste. On Harry, though, he can’t get enough of it. 

The last button goes and Eggsy runs his hands over the planes of Harry’s stomach and chest. His edges have rounded just a little where Eggsy’s have hardened over the past year, complimenting each other perfectly.

Again he leans down, this time to suck Harry’s right nipple into his mouth. He is rewarded with a low moan. The same ministrations to the left get even more of a reaction. There is another scar there, its source undisclosed but it scares Eggsy just a little bit whenever he licks over it and feels Harry’s pulse at the tip of his tongue.

“Can we take this off?” Eggsy tugs at the pajama shirt.

“Can you ask nicely?” Harry challenges.

Eggsy’s throat tightens a little and his heart skips a beat. “Can we take this off … Sir?”

Harry sits up, leans into him and lets Eggsy pull the garment off his shoulders. He presses a kiss to the side of Eggsy’s neck, trailing up to his ear just the way Eggsy likes it.

“Take off my pants as well, Eggsy.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry lets himself fall back again and Eggsy slips his fingers into the waistband of the satin pants. They come down easily, Harry tilts his hips up to help, and Eggsy slides them down those impossible legs; long, lean and well muscled, made for ballroom dancing and gripping someone in a deadly headlock. Eggsy never would have thought himself to be into legs until he’d had Harry’s wrapped around his waist while he fucked into that beautiful arse.

“I don’t need to tell you what to do, do I?”

It’s obscene, really, having Harry lie in front of him like that, in all his naked glory, legs fallen open, his cock resting half hard against his thigh. His tone is even more obscene, low and sultry and just this side of an order.

“Please do, Sir,” Eggsy hears himself say, a little self-conscious all of a sudden. It surprises him how easily he slips back into that place right now. It scares him, too.

“Please me, Eggsy. I want you to take me into your mouth and I want you to bring me off.”

Eggsy’s cock jumps. It literally does. 

“You will not touch yourself. You will not have an orgasm.”

“No, Sir.”

“Say it back to me, my boy.”

“I won’t touch myself. I won’t have an orgasm. I’ll please you. Sir.” 

Harry smiles at him and it’s the love behind his eyes that puts Eggsy at ease, that makes the words feel less alien in his mouth.

He scoots down on the bed and settles between Harry’s legs. Gently, as if to test his boundaries, he runs his hands down Harry’s thighs, slips them into the bend of his knees and makes him plant his feet on the mattress. His eyes dart up to Harry’s face but all he finds there is approval. He loves that look, longs for it.

So he trails open-mouthed kisses up Harry’s leg, from the knee all the way to his crotch, then back down the other. He lets his hands follow, caressing that deliciously warm skin, until his palms finally meet around the base of Harry’s cock. 

Eggsy gives him a soft stroke at first, then a firmer one. He feels Harry harden quickly in his hand, his prick turning a naughty shade of pink. It takes a few more strokes for a shiny drop of precome to collect at his slit.

“Use your mouth, Eggsy,” Harry instructs. It doesn’t sound like an order which makes it even hotter.

Eggsy complies immediately, shifts down and aligns Harry’s cock with his lips. He licks a slow circle around the crown, scooping up the precome along the way. Then he opens up and lets Harry’s cock slide into his mouth.

They moan in unison, Eggsy’s sound vibrating along Harry’s length, making Harry’s hips buck off the bed.

Eggsy is good at this and he knows it. ‘Sleight of hand and a big mouth’ he had joked the first time and he has yet to prove himself a liar.

So he relaxes his jaw and takes Harry in as far as he can, which is almost all the way down to the root. He lets out a breath, adjusting to the fullness in his mouth and then he moans again.

Harry curses under his breath, one hand gripping the not-long-enough hair at the back of Eggsy’s neck, holding him in place.

Eggsy sucks in his cheeks and starts to hum, sending more vibrations down the cock in his mouth. Harry is a grower and he hardens even more, the tip of his prick pushing against the back of Eggsy’s throat.

“Can you go deeper, Eggsy?” 

The sound of Harry’s voice, the pervertedly husky tone combined with him being ever so polite, drives Eggsy crazy. He ruts his hips against the mattress but doesn’t get away with it.

“Remember what I said. You will not come.” The tone becomes stricter now and Eggsy becomes harder. “Open up now. All the way down.”

Eggsy doesn’t have a choice. Harry pushes his hips up while his hand keeps Eggsy’s head in place, shoving up into his mouth until Eggsy’s nose is pressed against Harry’s pubic bone.

Tears spring into his eyes and he taps Harry’s thigh, requesting release. He gets it immediately.

“Very good, Eggsy.” How can he make it sound like it’s some tactile training?

Eggsy wipes spit from the corner of his mouth, sucking in a breath.

“Too much?” Harry inquires.

“No … No, Sir. It’s just ... new, is all.”

Harry runs a hand through the damp hair on Eggsy’s temple. “Go slow, then.” He doesn’t need to say he means for Eggsy to go down all the way again.

Eggsy shifts his position, hooks his arms around Harry’s thighs and goes for his cock again. It’s a little easier now when he can set his own pace but he still chokes a little when the tip of Harry’s cock hits the back of his throat.

The third time he can go even deeper, managing to exhale through his nose, and he stays like that for a few seconds. 

When he goes down a fourth time, Harry holds his head down again and this time, Eggsy doesn’t tap out. This time, he stays, slowly breathing through his nose. He doesn’t even pull back when Harry thrusts up into his mouth. He just concentrates on his breath and Harry’s scent where it’s caught in the trimmed hair around the base of his cock.

“That’s enough for now. You did very good, Eggsy.” Harry guides his head up, running the pad of his thumb over Eggsy’s bottom lip.

Eggsy still has his eyes closed, feeling a little dizzy; part of it is the lack of oxygen, the other is a strangely exhilarating feeling of pleasing Harry like that.

“Now bring me off.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Eggsy dives down again and starts to suck Harry in earnest. He knows how to play Harry, knows all the spots that are guaranteed to get him there immediately. 

He knows how to wrap his hand around the base of Harry’s cock for some added friction. He knows how lick just the rim of his crown, that one particular nerve bundle on the underside that makes Harry arch off the bed and forget his name for a second.

Eggsy loves this, the little sounds Harry makes, the muttered curses, the hand gripping the sheets. He loves dismantling him like this, to uncover the Harry who isn’t all pressed shirts and case files. 

The Harry he had fallen in love with, the one that only he gets to see (and maybe Merlin, but that’s different).

Yes, Harry is in charge - even more so tonight than usual - but it’s Eggsy who allows him to be, who now has him right here, coming apart in front of him. 

It doesn’t take Eggsy long to bring Harry to the edge. As some Freudian payback, he keeps him there - pauses, picks up his pace, pauses again. He teases him with loose strokes of his hand, fascinated by the dark pink hue of Harry’s cock, slick with precome and spit. 

Feeling more deviant than necessarily healthy, Eggsy sucks his index finger into his mouth, getting it wet, before pressing it against the tight ring of Harry’s hole.

Harry now almost black eyes fly open, focusing on Eggsy, who ignores them. He pushes forward, his fingertip breaching Harry’s body and he sinks in easily to the first knuckle.

A shudder rolls through Harry's body, an even more violent one when Eggsy presses further in and curls his finger to brush just the edge of Harry’s prostate.

He is met with a litany of curses but he knows Harry loves this, has proof in the form of thick drops of precome pooling where Eggsy’s other hand has formed a tight ring around the tip of Harry’s cock. He licks it off, takes Harry into his mouth again while he works his finger in the same rhythm.

Harry’s hand goes into his hair again, not to guide him but to hold onto him as he thrusts up to meet Eggsy’s mouth. He bears down on Eggsy’s hand again, gooseflesh erupting on his thighs as Eggsy’s finger hits just the right spot inside of him. 

Eggsy could do this all day and drink in the sight of Harry’s body arched like that, covered in the most lickable sheen of sweat. He can keep on listening to Harry’s ragged breaths and the way he moans his name over and over again. 

With his lips around Harry’s cock and his cheeks sucked in, Eggsy swallows. He curls his finger one more time just there.

That takes Harry over the edge. His body goes rigid, and for a long breath he stays like that, then he starts comeming. His hips twitch with every spasm, spurting thick ropes down Eggsy’s throat.

Eggsy swallows. He loves Harry’s taste and he knows Harry loves spending himself entirely into his mouth. He has never said it out loud but he gets that satisfied smile whenever Eggsy does it.

With one last jerk of his hips, Harry slumps down on the mattress, covering his face with one arm. 

Slowly, Eggsy pulls his hand back, easing his finger out of Harry’s impossibly tight hole. The ring of muscles twitches, looking deliciously lickable. With his cheeks sucked in, he pulls back, releasing Harry’s cock with an obscenely wet plop. He swallows the remnants of come, the places a little peck on the swollen crown.

He rests his head on Harry’s thigh and watches him come down, gently stroking Harry’s thigh.

“Eggsy …” Harry’s voice is a husky breath, “come here.”

Disentangling himself from Harry’s legs, Eggsy climbs up his body, then settles down next to him.

Harry draws him into a sloppy kiss, all open mouth and tongue, and Eggsy lets Harry taste himself.

“You are amazing,” Harry murmurs against the corner of Eggsy’s mouth.

“And you …” the words hitch in Eggsy’s throat when Harry slips a hand inside his boxers and wraps his fingers around his cock. “Christ, Harry.”

“Don’t come,” Harry says lazily as if he’s already half asleep, “don’t you dare come.”

“Easy for you to …”

Eggsy closes his eyes at the sensation. He has been hard the whole time, trying not to think about it, about how easy it would be to just rut against the mattress for some release. And now Harry is stroking him within an inch of an orgasm. An orgasm he isn’t allowed to have.

“Tell me when, Eggsy.”

“Now,” Eggsy says immediately, clinging to Harry’s shoulder.

Harry pulls his hand back, leaving Eggsy’s cock high and dry and twitching against his thigh.

“Harry, please,” he whimpers, seeking every little bit of friction he can get.

“Don’t come. Don’t think about it. Look at me.” Eggsy meets Harry’s dark gaze and that look almost makes him come all on its own. “Do you understand why you had this edge?”

Eggsy shakes his head.

“Because you used your finger when I told you to use your mouth. You disobeyed my order again. But you did very well, so I won’t punish you.”

“Thank you.” Eggsy blushes violently. 

“You’re not going to come while you’re grounded. You’ll do as I told you and if you behave, you’ll be allowed to come. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Eggsy replies immediately, hanging his head in submission.

“Very good. Now get me cleaned up.” Harry kisses him again, tender now and loving.

Eggsy rises from the bed and retrieves a washcloth from the bathroom like he has done countless times before. When he returns and sees Harry just lying there, sprawled and just on this side of filthy, he realizes two things:

He has never loved him more, and this is going to be a long week.

 

*

 

Eggsy wakes up to the smell of fresh toast and strong coffee. It’s coming from the bedside table, slowly teasing him awake.

The bed dips and a warm hand runs over his shoulder, followed by an even hotter mouth.

“Good morning, my love.”

Eggsy grumbles a response into his arm, slowly blinking his eyes open. 

Harry is already dressed to the nines as always, looking obnoxiously awake. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Eggsy shifts to his side to look at Harry and for Harry to take a look at the very obvious erection tenting his boxers. “Been better.”

A little smile touches Harry’s lips and Eggsy can’t decide if it’s devious or amused. “I believe we should talk about yesterday and especially about last night. What happened …”

“I want it,” Eggsy all but blurts, suddenly very wide awake.

“Eggsy …”

“No, Harry. My turn.” He sits up and draws the blanket over his laps. Out of sight, out of mind, right? “We can talk about it, yeah, but my mind’s made up. I want it. More of it, that is.”

Harry looks at him, looking for a tell that he is joking which he won’t find.

“My whole life, I never actually trusted people. Place I grew up in, trust gets you into trouble. So I learnt to listen to my guts instead of other people. I mean, I couldn’t even trust my mom to keep me and Daisy safe. She brought people into our lives that … Well, you know them probably better than I do.” Eggsy smiles wryly. “What I mean to say is … I trust you, Harry. I understand … I _know_ that you won’t hurt me. I realized that yesterday in your office. I’m safe with you. You and Merlin ... I trust you with my life.”

“That’s not the same thing, Eggsy. Being on a mission and being …”

“It is though, isn’t it? In a way.” He hesitates to for a moment, his smile turning a little more devious this time. “So as long as you don’t plan on keeping me in a cage in the basement … We can have more of this.”

Harry cradles his face into his hands and kisses him, deeply as if to mark him. “Are you sure?”

Eggsy looks at him for a long moment even though he already knows the answer. “Yes, I am,” he says, thoroughly enjoying the boyish smile on Harry’s face. “One step at a time, yeah?”

“I love you, Eggsy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Eggsy replies cheekily. 

“You will report to Merlin today, I believe he has some tasks for you.”

Eggsy’s mood sobers by a fraction. “He knows about this, doesn’t he? I heard him in your office.”

Harry sits back again, regarding him steadily. “He knows about your punishment. He doesn’t need to know the rest.”

“Maybe he should.” Eggsy feels heat rising into his cheeks. “He’ll want to know why I have a constant boner for a week.”

“That’s true. He’s one of your commanding officers. But it’s your decision, Eggsy. I have known Merlin for most of my life. If you decide to share this with him, you can absolutely trust him with it.”

A cheeky grin slips onto Eggsy’s face. “I think he might even enjoy it.”

“You’re not mistaken, my darling.” Harry leans in for another kiss. “Now get ready. I don’t want to be late.”

Eggsy grins against his mouth. “That’d be a first.”

 

*

 

All eyes are on Eggsy. At least that’s what it feels like when he walks through the halls at HQ.

Thankfully his erection has gone done after he was finally able to convince Harry that keeping his hand on Eggsy’s thigh was not a great idea. 

And still he feels like people know when they look at him. That they can tell what is going on. It’s ridiculous, of course, but this is a house full of trained spies and reading a person’s body language is on their schedule right next to disarming a dirty bomb. 

He tries to shake it off when he enters Merlin’s lab, trying to forget Harry’s words from this morning.

“Agent Eggsy reporting for duty, sir.” Eggsy clicks his heels, startling Merlin into almost dropping his mug.

“And a good morning to you, too, Galahad. Glad you could join me. I believe Arthur has informed you of your tasks today?”

“Not exactly.” Something in Merlin’s tone makes Eggsy a little nervous. 

“Then follow me.” Merlin leads him back down the hall and down a flight of stairs Eggsy has never paid attention to before. A heavy steel door opens up to a low room filled with row upon row of filing cabinets. “As you know, Kingsman existed well before the digital age. Unfortunately, given the amount of work we do and the lack of trustworthy personnel, we haven’t been to able to digitize the files prior to the 1960s.”

“Oh now you’re just taking the piss.”

“A little bit, yes. The scanner is in the back. You might want to start with 1963. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Eggsy looks at him, incredulous, but if Merlin is actually kidding him, his face doesn’t tell. “You two, plague and cholera. Seriously.”

“Go to work, Eggsy.”

“Yes, sir.”

And that’s how it goes for a week. 

Paperwork for Merlin. Even more paperwork for Percival (much to Roxy’s amusement). Cleaning every bloody gun rack on site for Bors. Washing the cars for Gawain who conveniently had given all the valets time off. 

And every night when he’s exhausted and annoyed, Harry brings him to the edge but never to release. He just uses his hand and never his mouth, knowing from experience that Eggsy would not be able to hold on.

One night, when Eggsy had complained about being demoted to a maid and that he might as well wear the accompanying uniform, Harry had brought him to the edge twice, the second time more vigorous than the first.

Eggsy repaid him with first class blowjobs, deep throating every now and then, with handjobs and by eating him out, driving Harry absolutely crazy.

But it is all to no avail. Eggsy isn’t allowed to come or even touch himself and he is going insane with it. He tries to convince himself that he is just proving to himself that he can do it, that it he will win this game against his own body. 

He knows better. This isn’t about him. He wants to please Harry, wants to make him proud and actually earn his release. 

So here he is now - day 6 - back in Merlin’s Library of Impossible Things, digging through 1961.

His cock is in its permanent half-hard state, and for once Eggsy is glad to be holed away in the basement where no one can see. Well, Merlin probably can, but he hasn’t made a comment so far. 

Eggsy jumps when his phone rings in his pocket, the vibration annoyingly arousing. 

It’s a text from Harry, simply reading: _tonight_

Eggsy is fully hard in an instant and he has to dig his fingers into the particularly dusty file he is holding in order not to reach into his pants.

“Are you all right, Eggsy?”

Eggsy jumps once more at the sound of Merlin’s voice behind him. “Christ, guv. Way to give a man a heart attack. Wait, is that what happened to the last guy who did this job? You creeping up on him like in one of them horror films?”

“I didn’t know 1961 was quite so exciting,” Merlin shoots back without so much as a blink.

Eggsy flushes bright red, probably even outshining that obnoxiously orange jacket they have on display in the store now. He drops the file into his lap, trying to cover the rather obvious tent in his pants. “I’m … I could explain this but I really don’t want to.”

“I understand.” Merlin nods like he actually does understand. “I suppose that’s why you were so distracted this past week.”

Where are those rifts in the ground when you need one? Eggsy wants to die right there, or at least run far, far away. “I guess.”

“Don’t worry, Eggsy. We’ve all been through this.”

“What?”

“Consider it part of your training.”

“What?” Eggsy’s sudden lack of eloquence makes this even worse.

With the sigh of a patient teacher, Merlin sits down next to him. “I know you haven’t been on that kind of a mission yet but some of our tasks may require you to …”

“Not come for a week and be everyone’s favorite pet?” Eggsy blurts, regretting his choice of words immediately.

If Merlin is at all rattled, he doesn’t let it show. “Precisely. You may enter a situation where it’s vital to be in full control of your body, where it would be fatal if you showed any sign of arousal. Or the opposite, where sexual prowess is of the utmost importance but your own satisfaction is only secondary. You will have to be able to uphold an erection for a long time without giving into temptation.”

Eggsy looks at him. Really looks. There is no sign of blushing on that face, nor are his pupils dilated. For the briefest of seconds he imagines Merlin going through what he is experiencing but he stops that thought short. Mostly because it turns him on even more. Strict, by-the-book-until-unleashed-Merlin and sex … that’s probably quite the explosive mixture.

“You know, Merlin, this is the weirdest daddy talk ever,” he says finally and he means it.

“Oh, you’re mistaken. I’m no daddy.” Merlin rises. “If you’re looking for one, you might want to reset your rules with Harry.”

“He’s … that, too? I thought he was just a …”

“What he is ... is the best teacher and lover you could possibly have.”

“So the two of you …” Eggsy can’t say it. He imagines it immediately but he can’t say it.

“Ages ago,” Merlin says as if to reassure Eggsy. “I’ll leave you to it now. You might want to skip 1960, though. They had some pretty raunchy honey pot mission that year and the reports are rather … graphic.”

Eggsy nods gratefully. “Thank you.” He lets Merlin reach the door before he calls after him. “And thank you for not …” He gestures vaguely and awkwardly to the general direction of his lap.

“I’m the last person to make lewd comments about that,” Merlin states simply, then leaves Eggsy to his files.

His phone beeps once again. _Don’t flirt with your superior officer._

Of course Harry would be watching. For all he knows Harry has sent Merlin in here. He wants to text and gets as far as _I wasn’t_ when he gets another text. _Take a shower when you get home. Do not redress._

Harry is a right bastard. This confirms it. Why else would he make a request like this? Other than Eggsy agreeing to submitting himself to it. He swallows his first reply and simply replies _Yes, Sir_

 

*

 

Eggsy takes a long shower. He soaps himself up thoroughly, carefully avoiding his erection, trying to wash off the smell of mildew and dusty paper. 

He has no idea when Harry will be home so he takes his time, soaps and shampoos and conditions. Anything to avoid acknowledging the coiled up tension and anticipation inside him. He doesn’t know what Harry has planned for him and it’s a little scary in a titillating way. 

When steps out of the shower, the mirror is steamed up, so he pads over into the bedroom and stands in front of the full length mirror in the closet. He towels off his hair but lets his body air dry just because Harry hates it. 

With his fingers, he brushes back his hair, slicks it to his skull, then tousles it again. With his index fingers he draws a crooked part on one side, then the other. It doesn’t look half bad. Maybe he should mix it up a little in the future.

“You’re beautiful.”

Harry’s voice makes Eggsy jump, his sloppy mohawk tilting drunkenly. 

“I didn’t hear you coming.”

Harry smiles at him. “Some spy you are.” He breaches the distance between them, slides an arm around Eggsy’s waist, draws him close. “I missed you this week.”

“You saw me every day.”

“You should learn how to take a compliment, my darling.” 

Before Eggsy can retort his lips are sealed with a long kiss. He loves kissing Harry like this, slow and deep, because those kisses are just for Eggsy.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he says as they pull apart. 

“Which is why we have the weekend off.”

Eggsy beams. “So we can do all the domestic shit like binge watch Doctor Who and eat fish fingers?”

Harry tries not to roll his eyes. “Something to that end, yes.”

Eggsy goes on tiptoes and kisses him back, lighter this time, more playful.

“How was your week? Did you make it through all right?” Harry asks, giving Eggsy a onceover.

“Like you didn’t see most of it.”

“I want to know how you felt, Eggsy. I need to make sure you’re well.” He runs his fingers through the damp hair at Eggsy’s forehead. “Tell me.”

Eggsy’s eyes flicker close for a moment, reveling in the gentle touch. When he looks back up at Harry, he feels warmth seep into his bones.

“It’s been tough, to be honest,” Eggsy admits. “I mean, it’s new and … I didn’t … I didn’t want to disappoint you.“ it’s weird saying it but not at all embarrassing. Not with Harry.

“You can’t.”

“I did … once.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not with this. Whenever you’re uncomfortable, you tell me, all right? You are to enjoy this as much as I do.”

“Yes, Harry. Sir.”

Harry kisses him again. “Take off my jacket.” Eggsy does. The waistcoat goes next as well as the suspenders and the belt. “Cufflinks, please.” Eggsy puts them into their box on the top shelf in the closet. “Now roll up my sleeves.”

Eggsy loves this look on Harry, this slightly come apart hot teacher look. He never tells him that.

What Harry does next surprises Eggsy. He draws him into another embrace but makes Eggsy keep his arms at his sides. He slides his hands over Eggsy’s shoulder blade, massages a little kink there, then travels further down his spine until he reaches the small of his back and cups his butt.

With his cheeks spread slightly, Eggsy feels a little exposed but when he leans into Harry and breaths him in, that feeling dissipates. He lets Harry continue his exploration as he goes around to the front, over Eggsy’s hip bones, digging his thumbs into the hollows just there and Eggsy’s cock twitches.

Next are his stomach and his chest until Harry cups his face again.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Eggsy does and he listens. Listens to a drawer being opened and things being removed. Hears Harry move about like he always does, retrieving something from the closet, then closes the door.

Something cool slides around Eggsy’s head and it takes him a moment to realize it’s a tie. It winds over his eyes and Harry ties it to a knot at the back of his head.

“Too tight?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good.”

Harry runs a hand over Eggsy’s cheek. “I will not respond to ‘no’ or ‘stop’. Let me hear your safeword.”

The breath hitches in Eggsy’s throat as this suddenly becomes very real to him. “I don’t know … Brogues?”

“Very good. Once you say it, this will stop. Until you reach that point, you may use yellow and red to indicate discomfort.”

“Understood.”

“And one more thing.” Harry kisses him once again. “If you’re getting close, you tell me. If you need to come, you will ask for permission.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you, Eggsy.” Another soft kiss seals the deal.

Harry steps away from Eggsy and then there is the pop of a plastic bottle being opened. Liquid is being poured.

A heady scent fills Eggsy’s nose when Harry places his hands on his chest again, said liquid - an oil perhaps - runs down his body. 

Harry repeats his ministrations from before, spreading the oil all over Eggsy’s body. Pecs and stomach, shoulders, arms and fingers. Back, down his spine, arse, thighs and shins. At last he runs his fingers up Eggsy’s crack, stopping for a split second at his hole, drawing a moan from Eggsy.

“I will touch your cock now. Let know if you’re getting close.”

“Yes, Sir.”

With firm pressure, Harry closes his fingers around Eggsy’s ball, giving them a gentle tug. 

Frankly, Eggsy could come right there. All these new sensations do not help in the least. 

That thought scatters when something tightens around the base of his balls and cock.

“Too tight?” Harry asks.

Eggsy doesn’t really know for sure. He’s never worn a cockring before and doesn’t know how it’s supposed to feel. “No,” he replies carefully. 

“Good. I will tie you up now. If you’re uncomfortable, tell me. If anything pinches you at all, if you feel numbness or cold, let me know immediately. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Eggsy can feel Harry move about him, hears the thud of rope falling on the carpet. A chill of anticipation runs down his spine.

He feels the first loop of rope go over his neck. It tightens as Harry ties a knot just the below the hollow of his throat. Another knot goes above his sternum, one on his belly and a fourth on top of his pubic bone. Then Harry threads the rope between Eggsy’s legs, carefully running one end on either side of his balls and then back up his body to pull it through the original loop.

What happens next is tougher to figure out. All Eggsy is able to tell is that the rope goes around his shoulders now, carefully placed on his delta muscle, and gets run through the two strands on his chest. The same motion is repeated all the way down until his wrists are tightly pressed against his hips.

“How does this feel, Eggsy?” Harry asks, his voice now in front of Eggsy again.

“Good. Bit like a straightjacket.”

“I will guide you to the bed now. Don’t sit down yet.” Harry places a hand on Eggsy’s shoulder and moves him to the side of the bed. “I will tie up your legs now. If you lose your balance, the bed is right behind you. When I’m done, you won’t be able to move by yourself so I will lay you down.”

“Understood.”

With the same skilled, smooth motions, Harry wraps more rope around Eggsy’s body. He goes from his hips down, securing the strands just below his butt cheeks, above and below the knees, around his calves and finally around his ankles. He fastens it off, then checks all the wraps as he does back up.

Slowly, he sits Eggsy down, then moves him into a laying position, placing a pillow into the back of his neck. 

“Can you try to move for me, please.”

Eggsy does and it’s nothing more than an awkward wriggle. He can neither move his arms not his legs, is only able to bend his knees a little to spread his legs. 

“Uncomfortable?”

“No, just … weird.”

Harry runs the back of his hand over Eggsy’s cheek. “You’re doing great, my darling.”

There is more rope. One strand goes to each wrap around Eggsy’s shoulders, one to each hip, one to the ones below the knees. They are secured to the frame of the bed, rendering Eggsy close to immobile. 

It’s a strange experience. Unlike being tied to train tracks, Eggsy isn’t scared. He is exhilarated.

The bed shifts as Harry sits down next to him. Once again, he lets his hand roam over Eggsy’s body; shoulders, stomach, hips. Then he goes back up again, rolling one of Eggsy’s nipples between his fingers. “We can still stop.”

Eggsy shakes his he head. “No, please, Harry.” As much as he can, he pushes up against Harry’s hand, seeking friction. 

“As you wish.” 

There is something devious in Harry’s tone, something Eggsy is eager to explore. Well, explore as much as one can being tied to the bed, wrapped up like a horny Christmas present.

Harry continues teasing his nipple. When Eggsy can feel the heat pooling there, Harry moves on to the other one, giving it the same treatment.

Eggsy himself has never given them that much attention before but now he can feel every twist, tug and roll go straight to his groin. He has been hard for what feels like hours - is it hours? Or days already? - and his cock is twitching impatiently against his stomach.

Harry doesn’t let up. He repeats his ministrations with his mouth. He licks and sucks and bites until Eggsy begs him to stop. Of course, he doesn’t do anything of that sort. On the contrary. Harry grins against his raw skin, flicking his tongue against the overly sensitive bud.

“Red,” Eggsy pants and Harry pulls back immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” Harry inquires.

“Almost made me come.”

Harry shifts on the bed, and then there is that tone again. “Right. I see.” He dips his fingers into what Eggsy is sure is a pool of precome at the tip of his cock. When he touches his finger to the tip of Eggsy’s cock, brushing just over the slit, Eggsy arches against his restraints. It elicits a chuckle from Harry and who the hell chuckles other than spy movie villains? “Easy. We are just getting started, my darling.”

“Please.” Eggsy knows it’s quite pathetic but he can’t help it. He has been on the edge for literally a week and he is more than ready to explode. 

“You’re doing just fine, Eggsy. Just take a deep breath and count backwards from ten.”

Eggsy does, spacing out each number between labored breaths. When he reaches ‘four’ he is almost able to think properly. At ‘two’ he almost doesn’t feel the immediate need to come.

“One.” He lets out one more shuddering breath. “Zero.”

“Very good.” Harry wraps his hands around Eggsy’s length, holding him tightly. “Tell me when you’re getting close.”

He sets a slow pace, long and easy strokes. Just the right amount of pressure, not tight enough to give the needed friction yet firm enough for Eggsy to feel it every time he slides his hand up and down. Harry’s fingers close around the tip of his cock, thumb brushing across the slit, taking the drop of precome down with him.

The build-up is slow this time and pools languidly in the pit of Eggsy’s belly, spreading down his legs, making his toes curl. He can’t help the low moan with every downstroke.

“Close,” he pants, already feeling his balls tightening up.

“Hold it, Eggsy. Just a few more.”

There is something in Harry’s voice that makes Eggsy comply. It’s a weird sensation, an unconscious decision his body makes for him. He is on the edge but he doesn’t tip over. He does hold on and lets Harry give him a few more slow strokes.

“Gonna come,” Eggsy presses through gritted teeth, his orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. 

“Ask politely.”

“May I come, please, Sir?” It comes out as a string of words, hurried and desperate.

“No.” Simple. Just like that.

Harry takes his hand off him, leaving Eggsy high strung and writhing as much his restraints allow it. He doesn’t come but he is right there, teetering on the edge, madly swaying back and forth but not with enough momentum to fall over by himself.

“Christ, fuck … Harry …” 

“Calm down now. Take a deep breath. Count backwards from ten.”

Eggsy does, half in his head, half out loud.

While he does, Harry’s hand is running circles on his thigh, easing the miniature kink in his muscle where the rope digs into his flesh. It’s an odd mixture, the torture of the edge and the gentleness of Harry’s touch. It soothes him, though, makes it easier to come down again, to breath evenly.

“Are you ready?” Eggsy probably isn’t but nods anyway. “Use your words.”

“I’m ready, Sir.”

“Very good. This one will be a little tougher.”

Eggsy nods again, then adds dutifully: “Yes, Sir.”

Harry shifts beside him. He places one hand on Eggsy’s stomach below his navel, the other one goes around the base of Eggsy’s cock. The breath hitches audibly in Eggsy’s throat when he feels Harry’s mouth on him. 

He hasn’t done this in over a week, knowing full well what it does to Eggsy, how easy it is to get him off like that. And now he is doing it when Eggsy is already one step past the point of no return, heading straight for the cliff. It’s cruel and devious and atrocious and sanguinary and all the other big words for evil Harry has taught him.

Eggsy curses under his breath and tries to arch up into Harry but the hand on his stomach holds him down firmly.

Harry takes him all in in one swift motion. He stays like that, breathing evenly through his nose, then sucks his cheeks in as he goes back up. With a wet plop he releases Eggsy again. 

“You’re killing me, Harry.” It comes out as a garbled plea.

“Hardly, darling,” Harry replies, his tone a little too cocky for Eggsy’s liking. 

“Tell that to maaaaaaah …”

Harry goes down on him again, repeating his motions over and over. When he pulls back he doesn’t back off but runs his tongue around the tip of Eggsy’s cock, ever so gently licking across the slit, slick with Eggsy’s precome and his own spit.

“Tell me when, Eggsy,” he manages in between his teasing touches like the annoyingly skilled bastard that he is.

“Gonna come. Please may I come?” Eggsy doesn’t know what drives him more toward the edge, Harry’s ministration or him asking if he’s close. 

It all scatters when Harry pulls back again with a firm: “No.”

Very much not a gentleman, Eggsy curses colorfully, trying to get any friction, anything at all but it’s no use. His hands are tied up uselessly and there is nothing but air to buck up into. 

“Easy, my love,” Harry soothes him - or tries to, for that tone annoys the fuck of out Eggsy right now. “Breathe. Slow and deep. Backwards from eight now.”

Eggsy does, trying to remember any and all lessons he has ever had about pulse control and breathing techniques. He tries to imagine a rifle in his hands, tries to envision focusing on a target, steadying his hands. Pulling the trigger between breaths, between heartbeats.

It’s all fair and square when you’re in combat or on a shooting range. But not with your entire body laced up like a ham at Christmas. 

“Stay with me, Eggsy. Stay focused.” 

Eggsy tries. He really does. When he gets down to three it gets a little easier and he is almost relieved when Harry moves away from him, when he doesn’t feel his immediate warmth against him.

This time, Harry doesn’t ask if he’s ready. This time, a chilly drizzle of lube trickles down Eggsy’s length and with firm pressure, he strokes him to the edge again.

Before Eggsy can even think it, he is already babbling, almost begging for release, his words one string of desperate syllables. Of course, the answer is no. For one coherent second, he is aware that Harry might not let him climax at all tonight, that this is all it’s going to be. A seemingly endless edge that has him raw in the very literal sense of the word.

“Count down from five,” comes the next instruction, and as soon as Eggsy reaches zero, he is brought to the edge once again. 

It starts to hurt now. If Eggsy could see himself, he would find his cock to be swollen and a deep shade of red. A ridiculous image, really, but it doesn’t feel all that funny anymore. 

Between his navel and his knees, his body is on fire, drawn tight and ready to burst, only held together by thirty metres of rope. The burn is worse just below the tip of his cock, an angry pain as if he is being skewered by a white hot poker.

Eggsy isn’t quite sure what happens next. The next count is down from three, that he knows, but whether it’s one edge or ten he loses track of.

He starts drifting. Not in the way he’d done during his corner time. During that time, he had been crystal clear, finding a strange kind of a solace in his punishment. Now, he feels like he is actually drifting away from himself, his sense of time having been lost a long while ago. His body is all but reduced to just one specific body part, stimulated over and over again, entirely at Harry’s mercy.

Harry will take care of him. Eggsy knows that. Not consciously - at least not now - but on a very basic, instinctual level. He will know what is best for Eggsy and that is what Eggsy will get. Not what he wants but what he needs.

It is liberating. He doesn’t need to worry about anything, he doesn’t even think, can give himself over entirely to the sensation. 

Eggsy is afloat.

He counts and recount for what feels like an hour. His climax is always just that half step out of his reach. He doesn’t even need to announce it anymore. Harry knows the signs now, reads them blindly. 

He stops and goes in insanely short intervals and doesn’t give Eggsy time to take a decent breath. It’s torturous, in a way, but not in the way makes Eggsy ask for it to stop. On the contrary, he finds comfort in it, in the pure need that wraps around him like the ropes he is tied with.

He whimpers, all but mewls when Harry pulls away from him again, leaving him feeling like his entire being is just made of his red hot cock.

“Please, Sir,” he barely manages on the exhale of a long held breath.

“You’re doing so well, Eggsy. You’re truly amazing, my darling.”

Harry runs his fingers through the sweaty hair at Eggsy’s forehead, traces his brow with his thumb. Eggsy feels his breath before he can taste it in a slow, sweet kiss. It’s a harsh contrast against the high strung arousal that envelopes the rest of his senses.

“Please,” Eggsy whispers against Harry’s mouth. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

Eggsy shakes his head. It’s only half a lie. He wants to remain in this state of almost mindlessness, of just being filled from head to toe with heat and lust. And yet, he also wants to come. Finally. After a week. After a week of constantly being teased, after a little eternity of being driven to the edge. He wants the pressure to go away, wants the burn to stop and that fire to finally engulf him and eat him alive.

“Do you want more?” Harry asks, following Eggsy’s jawline with his forefinger.

“Yes, please.”

“Very well.”

Somewhere in the back of Eggsy’s mind he registers how annoyingly polite Harry is, given he has just jerked him within an inch of life for the past hour.

Again, lube trickles down Eggsy’s cock, making for one slick affair in combination with the thick drops of precome pooling at the tip. Harry coats him, slowly, deliberately, twisting his hand when reaches the base. If he has had a few precious minutes to cool off, the effect dissipates within seconds when Harry touches him again.

Again, Eggsy feels that rush from the pit of his stomach to the very tip of his shaft, the entirety of his being boiling down to this.

Again, Harry takes his time with him. Slow strokes, easy and unhurried. He takes Eggsy closer than he has ever been without tumbling over. How long it takes, Eggsy can’t tell; it could be a minute or an hour. 

He can feel his orgasm building at his core, his entire body curling tightly around that feeling. It is just there, barely out of reach and he tries to hold it back but he is too raw and frayed. He will come, whether he wants to or not. He doesn’t have enough strength left to himself together.

“You’re close now, aren’t you?” Harry asks, sounding almost concerned.

Eggsy nods, his fingers uselessly clawing at what little he can grab of the sheets.

“Do you want to come?”

Eggsy nods again, letting out a desperate sound as he arches against Harry’s torturous hand.

“Say it. I’d like to hear you.”

“Please, may I come, Sir.” It’s surprising how Eggsy can still form a coherent sentence but this one is etched into his mind, almost like a mantra.

Harry gives him a few more strokes, just as slow, just as lazy, just as if he has no intention whatsoever to grant Eggsy his release. 

“Yes, you may.”

It doesn’t register. Eggsy is so focused on holding on, on not giving into it that his brain doesn’t understand the words, much less process them.

“Come now, Eggsy.”

Eggsy’s body wins.

When he comes, it’s painful and almost violent. He is flying apart into a million pieces yet feels every fibre of his body tighten up, a pinpoint of white hot ecstasy. 

To call the feeling overwhelming would be an understatement. He goes rigid, from his tightly knit brow to his curled toes. He literally throws himself against the ropes, making the bed frame creak under the strain. If he is making any sound at all, he doesn’t know.

He comes in thick ropes, spending himself over Harry’s hand, his own stomach and chest. He comes some more in angry spurts, each shocking him to the core, his pelvis twitching as much as it can. He comes and just when he thinks he is done, there is still more. With each stroke of Harry’s hand, and he keeps on stroking him in the same stoic rhythm, he comes again. He is more than spent yet none of his nerve endings understands that yet. They just keep on firing, letting him jerk and buck uselessly between the ropes and Harry’s hand.

Tears sting in his eyes beneath the blindfold. His muscles ache worse than after any training he has ever been through. His whole body is in pain as he continues to come and what he has longed for this past week becomes a dread.

“Please,” he finally manages, barely coherent. “Please, stop.”

“Not yet.”

Eggsy asks again. Begs. Then nothing.

When he comes to again, it has stopped. Finally. 

He still can’t see and he is still tied up, but at least the stimulation has stopped. The coming has stopped.

“There you are, darling.” Harry is still sitting next to him. 

“Har …” Eggsy’s voice fails him and he licks his lips, suddenly very thirsty.

“Here, have a few sips.” A bottle of water is put to his lips; Harry supports his head with one hand and lets him drink. “Go slow. Easy.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Harry rises from the bed. “I’ll turn off the lights and take off your blindfold. Don’t open your eyes just yet, let them adjust first.”

Eggsy keeps his eyes closed when Harry loosens the tie. Even with the lamps off he stills feels blinded and only drunkenly blinks his eyes open. When he does, Harry flicks on the light on the bedside table, dipping the room and himself into a gentle golden glow. He is standing next to the bed, carefully folding up the tie again. He has a strange look on his face, a mixture of concern and pride.

“I’m going to untie the ropes now. Try not to move too much until your circulation is back to normal again. I’ll help you when you need to sit up.”

Eggsy nods his confirmation. For the first time he is able to look at himself, wrapped tightly in red rope which feels tighter now that Eggsy actually sees it.

First, Harry loosens the ties on the bed, giving Eggsy a hair more ability to move. But Eggsy does as he is told, holds still. From the corners of his eyes, he watches Harry move about him, how he unties his legs first, kneading his calves and thighs as he goes up. His limbs tingle as the blood rushes back into them.

Harry helps up sit up, leans him against his own shoulder when he goes on to loosen the rope around his upper body. He does so with the same careful sensuality with which he has tied Eggsy up, letting his hands roam over Eggsy’s arms and shoulders, easing out the kinks and knots until he lays him down against. 

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks once all the rope is removed. 

Eggsy just nods for an answer. He feels limp, unable to move for entirely different reasons. He sucks in a breath when Harry removes the cockring at last, and a bolt shoots up his spine, almost making him come once more.

“I’ll be right back.” Harry leans down to him and kisses him on the forehead. 

Eggsy doesn’t know how long Harry is gone, he is barely awake when he returns. Harry sets a mug of tea on the bedside table then sits down next to him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He does so by running a warm washcloth over Eggsy’s chest and stomach, then further down, carefully avoiding Eggsy’s cock as much as he can. When he finally does touch him, Eggsy winces, still feeling raw and way too vulnerable. 

It is a bit of a jostle to turn down the bed with Eggsy still lying on top of it but Harry manages to pull out the covers from underneath him, then tugs them up around his waist.

“Harry … can you …” Eggsy’s fingers find Harry’s sleeve and he holds on to him when he steps back. “Stay with me, please.”

Harry smiles. It’s that warm smile that only Eggsy gets to see. “Of course, darling. Let me change first.”

From under heavy eyelids, Eggsy watches him strip out of his shirt and pants. He leaves on the undershirt and slips into his pajama bottoms, a look he has only just acquainted himself with after Eggsy had told him how hot he looked that way. He climbs into bed and Eggsy immediately curls up on his side, a movement fueled by instinct rather than energy.

One of his legs goes over Harry’s, an arm around his stomach, slotting his body up to Harry’s as if to never let him go again. And he really doesn’t plan to. He wants to stay like this, wants to feel Harry close to him, touch him, smell him, catch up on the deprivation of the last couple of hours. He wants to make sure he is actually there with him, ground himself in reality again, and let gravity do the rest.

Harry leans over him and reaches for the cup of tea. “Here, have a sip. You’re cold.”

Eggsy does as he is told and of course the tea has the right ratio of milk to tea, plus a tiny spoonful of sugar. 

“Thank you,” he says, letting the warmth seep into his body. Only now does he realize that he actually does feel cold, now that the adrenaline is finally dissipating.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, wrapping an arm around Eggsy’s shoulders.

“Strange,” Eggsy replies truthfully.

“Good?”

“I think so.” Actually, Eggsy doesn’t know how he feels exactly. It’s all new and raw and he has never felt to vulnerable in his life. When he says this out loud, Harry gives him that smile again, then leans down to kiss him. 

“I’m very proud of you, Eggsy.”

“I didn’t do much. Just laid around a bit.” Eggsy’s quip fails but he doesn’t care. Harry surely knows what he means.

“You have no idea what this means to me,” Harry continues. “You’ve given me a great gift tonight. A bigger one than you mightn’t realize just yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself. Your upbringing has made it difficult for you to trust people. That you have placed your trust in me just now, that you have given me this … I can’t thank you enough for it.”

Eggsy feels the heat rush into his cheeks. “My pleasure, I suppose.”

“I hope it was.” Harry looks at him intently, searching his face.

“Most definitely. I can’t describe it, I …”

“No need. Let it sink in. We can talk about it tomorrow. In fact, we have the entire weekend.”

Eggsy grins, burying his face against Harry’s shoulder. “That’s good. I really do need the weekend off ‘cause I’m not really feeling my legs right now.” He breathes in his Harry’s scent before he pulls back to look at him again. “I did it for you, you know. I loved it, I really did but … I enjoyed it even more because you loved it, too.”

Harry looks at him for a long moment and for a second Eggsy fears he has made a fool of himself. He has a quick tongue but expressing his feelings, especially about this which is unlike anything he has ever experienced before, has never been his strong suit. His worries scatter when Harry leans into him and kisses him.

“I love you. Even more so for loving me back,” Harry says quietly, his words only meant for Eggsy, for this room, for this moment. 

“I do … love you, I mean.”

Harry kisses his forehead again, pulling him tighter against his chest. “Get some rest now, my love. You might feel some anxiety and even sadness as soon as …”

“Harry,” Eggsy interrupts. “I do know what subdrop is.” When Harry eyes him quizzically, he adds: “The Chronicles of Kingsman wasn’t all I was reading up on in Merlin’s dungeon.”

“You never cease to amaze me, Eggsy Unwin.”

“I do my very best,” Eggsy replies, already half asleep, “Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, you made it... This is the longest one-shot piece I have ever written (so far). And full of naughtiness, too. I hope you enjoyed it. I fretted over some of it and wasn't sure if I actually wanted to go there but here we are now. Let me know what you think.


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